


Betrayal

by AJ_Hepburn



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Other, a six part fic on just what went down between Mike and Hopper during the year of El's absence, everything is canon compliant, inspired by the line "you want me to go check on him?" spoken by hop to el in s2, mainly this is a dip into Mike's mind as he dealt with his growing anger and frustration and guilt, poor boy i love him so much, though I am liberal with the timeline and use of some plot points
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 14:58:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15643113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJ_Hepburn/pseuds/AJ_Hepburn
Summary: Six chapters connecting the dots between Mike and Hopper's growing father-son bond, and how that was nearly broken by Jim's choice to keep El a secret.





	Betrayal

**Author's Note:**

> For Laura, who yelled with me about this for hours.

**December 9th, 1983**

Three days before Chief Jim Hopper would find El cold and alone in the woods, before he would help her and love her and give her a home, Mike Wheeler would be found sitting anxiously in his office, leg bouncing, thoughts racing.

It wasn’t entirely out of the blue for him to be there. After all, everyone involved had been filtering in and out of the station for a while, signing confidentiality agreements, swearing secrecy, promising to  _ move on,  _ to  _ forget. _ To pretend nothing happened. 

But Mike wouldn’t forget. 

No, he couldn’t forget.

It had only taken a week for her to encompass every one of his lingering thoughts, every mindless memory that struck through his brain. She’d waltzed in like she’d belonged there the whole time and showed him friendship like he’d never experienced before. 

And then she vanished.

It weighed down on Mike’s heart with every day that passed. The knowledge that she was lost and he was still there, waiting for her to come back. On the worst nights—the ones where he’d have to keep a light on to push that  _ monster _ out of his head—the most dangerous of thoughts would creep in. The ones that made him check the thermostat to see just how  _ cold _ it’d be that night. The ones that reminded him of the full fridge he had downstairs, of how  _ he _ wasn’t starving and lost and scared. The ones that reminded him she’d disappeared saving him. 

He pushed those thoughts out as soon as they came, though, every time. It was too much. Too much fear, too much longing, too much guilt. No, he just… he couldn’t deal with it. So instead he consciously replaced his panic with hope. 

He had hope that Will would get better, hope that the people from the Department of Energy would stop showing up at his door, hope that maybe on one of his bike rides past Mirkwood he would spot a pink dress or a white sneaker—it had only been a month after all. 

More than once, he nearly dared to voice these hopes, toeing the line between blurting what he knew and keeping it close to his chest. But it became clear very quickly that any mention of hope, any mention of  _ her _ , needed to be kept internalized. 

Once the interviews and meetings with agents started tapering out, once it became a little safer and Mike felt more at ease talking about it, he’d tried to go to his friends and tell them that he thought he might’ve seen her.

It was two days after Will had been released from the hospital and Mike had  _ raced _ over, sure that they could sneak off to Castle Byers and have some privacy, sure that they’d be as desperate as he was for answers. He had radioed Dustin and Lucas to come too, and to keep it quiet. The secret had been aching in his chest and he was dying to spill it, he had  _ seen _ her, she was still  _ out there _ .

But when he arrived at the Byers house, he knew he couldn’t tell anyone.

Will was bedridden, the house was in ruins, and there was a gaping hole in the wall. A quiet, nervous tension had filled the house, filled his friends. A lingering threat and a promise of more chaos should anything be said out loud. String lights hung loosely on the wall, under an array of letters—letters that he’d later learned had been Will’s sole source of communication during the week. 

While his bedroom and even his house had existed in some separate dimension from the disaster, remnants of everything that had happened were covering every inch of the Byers’ home.

Mike had stopped on his bike, chest heaving, eyes wide with realization. 

How  _ stupid _ could he have been to think that his hope, his  _ excitement _ at the prospect of getting El back could be more important than everyone else’s grief? How could he confess his secret with so much optimism when there was so much pain in everyone else’s lives? When it was just… _ not _ okay for everyone else. 

He’d sat dumbfounded at the Byers’ front door, kicking himself for even  _ thinking _ of overshadowing Will’s pain with his own hope.

So he decided to keep it to himself. Made the choice to keep El’s sudden reappearance a secret, to try on his own to find her until his friends were okay enough to decide if they wanted to help.

But a month had passed and still, nothing.

Not that the Chief had any idea of this though, he’d only met El the one night, and there was no way he knew about her reappearance—even less-so a chance that he knew Mike had been looking for her. Mike wasn’t even sure the Chief knew everything that had gone on between them. 

But he  _ did _ know that the Chief was reluctantly in contact with the government agents and frankly, he needed some help.

And so Mike sat, foot tapping, hands fidgeting, anxiously waiting in the Chief’s office.

He was late—almost a full hour—and Mike was just on the threshold of being worried that he’d be late for school (and more so that his mom would find out what he was doing), when the door slammed open and the Chief trudged in.

Mike heard a heavy sigh but didn’t dare turn around, just kept his eyes forward, waiting for the Chief to sit down.

Then, “What do you want, kid?” 

He didn’t sound angry, more exhausted than anything else. Mike took it as a good sign, his bravery swelling in his chest as the Chief sat down in front of him. But as he did so, he didn’t bother to give Mike so much as a glance. Rather, he just lifted his coffee cup and flipped through a few papers on his desk. 

“I…” Mike felt his bravery waver at total passivity the Chief was giving him, but made an effort to maintain his own steely expression, adjusting his posture to appear bigger than he felt. He dug his fingertips into the strap of his backpack in hopes his voice wouldn’t shake. “I want to talk to you about her.”

The Chief’s gaze jumped off the papers, his eyes landing on Mike’s.

_ That caught his attention. _

“About who?” 

The Chief’s eye darted to the open door. No doubt gaging how much Flo and the other officers could hear from her desk.

A loaded beat. An exasperated sigh. Mike’s fingernails dug deeper. 

“About  _ her _ !”

The Chief just stared at him for a minute, eyes narrowed, frame tense. Then, with a frustrated huff, he subtly nodded at the door, silently indicating its need to be closed. Mike’s eyebrows jumped up as he got the message, scrambling back to shut it before taking a seat again in front of the desk, nervous hands sliding down to tug at the rip in his jeans. 

Despite his jumpiness and growing discomfort, Mike took note of how the sheriff’s office had a cool, easy glow to it in the early morning sun. Shades drawn, light beaming in, sizable layers of dust sprinkled across all abandoned surfaces. It was quiet. 

She would’ve liked it.

Jim didn’t know what to make of any of it. It had been an  _ exhausting _ fucking month. Forget about all the interdimensional bullshit, the  _ paperwork _ and the  _ meetings _ were wearing him down more than anything. Government cover ups were no fucking joke.

Jim rubbed a palm along his beard and gave Mike an uneasy sigh, looking him over. Five foot nothing, jittery hands, tufty hair in desperate need of a haircut. Young, innocent eyes framed with dark circles, staring at him with such doubtful determination—a goddamn walking paradox. 

_ Poor kid’s seen too much too early. _

“Look,” he said, voice low. Mike scooted closer. “You know we can’t talk about this. About  _ her.  _ It’s too soon.  _ You _ signed the non-disclosure.  _ I _ signed the non-disclosure—” 

Mike was getting restless, his leg bouncing and jittering. “I know but—”

“So you know how liable we are. What could happen.”

“Yeah but—”

“It’s not just you, it’s your family. Your sisters, your mom, your dad.”

Mike scoffed minutely.

“So the  _ her  _ you’re talking about better be somebody else, or—” 

But Jim didn’t even get a chance to finish before Mike was spitting the words out.

“Her  _ name  _ is El. Say it.” 

For a moment Jim just stared at him, exhausted and beyond ready for the day to be over—despite the fact it hadn’t even really begun. He debated for a moment whether or not to just send the kid on his way. Tell him to  _ ‘get to school dammit, we can’t talk about these things, you know they could be listening’ _ . But the ferocity and iciness of Mike’s tone made Jim sure he wasn’t going to cave to intimidation. He knew Mike wouldn’t leave without talking about her _. _ About El.

Resolutely, Jim leaned back and tugged his radio off the shelf. 

He dropped it on the desk between them with a thud, turning it on and pulling the antenna all the way up.

Jim slid the volume dial up as far as it could go and in a moment, abhorrently loud country music was flooding the office, blaring in his ears. With a wave of his hand, Jim gestured for Mike to come closer, only noticing the kid’s confused and vaguely concerned expression as he beckoned him over. Mike consented silently (if a little confusedly), scooting his chair around the desk so the two were closer.

“Kid,” Jim started, voice so nearly drowned out by the music that he was sure Mike couldn’t even hear the words. “You can’t come barging in here. It looks bad. What ha—”

But the kid wasted no time.

“I saw her.”

It stopped Jim right in his tracks. The unmistakable surprise couldn’t be helped as it spread across his face: eyebrows squinting together, mouth dropping open. Jim leaned in a bit closer, studying Mike’s expression carefully. The kid was stoic and unflinching, shooting Jim the same glare he himself was wearing.

“ _ What? _ ” Music still shrouding their conversation.

“I saw El. That night. The last night. After everything, she was by my window. At my house. I  _ swear _ .” Mike’s voice was unwavering, his tone set and eyes blazing. For a moment he wondered if he spoke too fast, if the Chief even caught what he said. After all, he was hoping for more of a response but the Chief just kept staring at him, his piercing gaze making Mike squirm in his seat. He picked at the rip in his jeans. 

Then, “You saw her?” 

Not disbelieving, not argumentative, just an honest question.

Mike nodded, his heart racing. “I know it was her. I know it. She’s still out there. I-I don’t know where—the woods probably—but she needs help. She needs us to find her.”

The Chief’s eyes were on him, but they were unfocused, hazy. Staring off into space almost. He was thinking—hard—and Mike didn’t know if he should interrupt. The music kept blaring and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, regretting his decision.

The Chief wasn’t his first choice for help. No, not in the slightest. At first, he was going to go to Nancy. 

Two months ago it might’ve been weird for him to go to his  _ sister _ for anything, but after what happened, he felt like they’d grown closer. Bonded over the events of that week—and even more so the course of that  _ night _ . 

But just the same as Will, just the same as  _ everybody _ really, Nancy was clearly working through her own pain. Mike had met Barb a few times, and though he didn’t know her well at all, he knew that she and Nancy had been extremely close. He wanted his sister to help, but he couldn’t ignore Nancy’s pain to get her to buy into his hope, it was insensitive and he knew it.

Mike stared at the Chief blankly, growing more annoyed at the lack of response by the second.

He sat up straighter. “So—”

“Who else knows about this? About seeing her? Your friends?” The Chief’s barking questions are launched out of nowhere and hit him like a train, and for a moment Mike just gawks, unresponsive.

“Uh, no! No, no one else knows. My friends they’ve been…” Mike paused, embarrassed. He was so  _ incredibly _ not about to share a bunch of personal details about his fear and hesitance to share the secret with his friends with  _ the Chief of Police _ . “They’ve been…busy.” 

Not a lie. Not the truth either.

The Chief gave him another look, his brow narrowing and lips pursing. In response, Mike’s face flushed, his ears burning red and stomach dropping.  _ Was he in trouble? _ Then, just as he was about to catapult himself out of the office and try to forget the fact he’d ever come in, the Chief spoke. 

“Okay.” 

He turned and lowered the volume of the music, a dull roar still pounding in Mike’s ears.

Mike’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Okay?” 

The Chief shot him another look, this time more frustrated for sure. “ _ Okay, _ it’s worth looking into. Can’t tell anybody though.”

Mike’s heart leapt and he pushed himself to his feet in excitement.  _ Finally _ someone was on his side, listening to what he had to say.

“Great! When do we start? I’ve been biking a little extra around Mirkwood and I haven’t seen anything there yet, but I have a few places that I think she might’ve gone and if we split the—”

“No, just me.” 

Mike’s thoughts stopped midway through his brain.  _ What? _ His heart started racing and he felt his skin going pale.

“But you don’t know her!” 

The words jumped out of his throat before he was even sure what he was saying. But if the Chief could sense his panic, he ignored it. Instead, he just gave Mike a frustrated huff and stood from his chair.

“Not up for discussion, kid. Too dangerous. It’s just me.”

Mike had been so happy for a moment, so excited, so ready for the prospect of working for  _ real _ to find her. But now the Chief was sliding around his desk, moving to gently grip Mike by the arm in a way he knew meant it was time to go. 

“Wait! Wait, I-I’ll go!” Mike protested as the Chief pulled him gently to the door. At his words, the Chief let go of his jacket, huffing as he did so. Mike turned around and stared up at the grizzly man, trying with all his might not to let the intimidation take hold. He couldn’t leave on that note, no way.

Mike dropped his eyes, embarrassed. “Just…look for her, okay? And let me know if you find anything!” He wanted to fight, wanted to argue his way into getting a chance to help. But he couldn’t think of the words to say what he  _ really _ wanted to say, not with the Chief glaring at him like that. So he just turned towards the door, twisting the handle, accepting that while it wasn’t a total success, it wasn’t a total failure either. 

Mike was halfway out when it struck him. 

“Oh!” He spun around, meeting the Chief’s eyes one more time. “She likes Eggos. Y’know, the waffle brand. That’s what she liked to eat.” 

A pause. 

“In case you find her first.”

He was out the door before the Chief could react, not about to hear any protests. He knew he might catch some flack for the comment later, but he didn’t care in the slightest. Because now one more person knew she was out there. One more person would be looking for her, ready to bring her home. He held his head high, the hope filling him once more.

Jim on the other hand just stood there frozen for a minute, watching the door swing closed. He wasn’t quite sure what had happened in the five minutes since he’d found Mike Wheeler sitting in his office, but he knew it could be a game changer. 

The girl was still out there,  _ maybe _ . She was still alive,  _ maybe _ . To his knowledge—and to his own credit, it was goddamn extensive at that point—none of the psychos at the Department of Energy knew where the girl was either. 

Game changer.

_ Worth looking into, sure,  _ he thought.  _ Likelihood of finding her? Slim to none. _

Jim ambled back to his desk and slumped in his seat, staring ahead and vaguely listening to the music from the radio, still playing even though the conversation had ended. 

He owed it to the girl, that was for sure. After turning her in that night, after betraying her trust, he definitely owed her his honest efforts.

Maybe he’d go out later that night, see what he could find. Bring some food, bring some of those damn waffles the kid mentioned.

_ It’s a crapshoot but I owe it to her. _

Sighing, Jim turned to his desk and opened the manila file folder by his coffee cup, turning his mind away from telekinetic girls and rescue missions and onto the work at hand. 

He’d go out later. See what he could do.

And not that the Chief knew at the time, and  _ especially _ not that Mike knew, but those Eggos _ would _ save her life. In just three days time.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @janes-mike :)  
> -AJ


End file.
